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Category Archives: Oneiros Books

The King Is Dead
By Reuben Woolley
Paperback
80 Pages
Published Oneiros Books, 2014

THE KING IS DEAD

By Reuben Woolley

the king is dead is a Promethean gamble that pays off for Reuben Woolley, a book that seems to be absurdly minimalist in its expression manages to body-cage and reduce universal themes to striking symbols that set into balance the agonies of existence along with a patient longing for death… …The eponymously titled series at the heart of the book explores the rage of human wastage and the necessity of physical and psychical transformation. There is a psychic economy to how mythos and ceremony are presented by Woolley.

mpcAstro is out pimping the pixelsphere with an e-book tease of his latest Oneiros Books hard copy release, Nidus Plexus. He reckonfabulates that because click click clicking is only vicariously sexy, after the pole dance, you may end up driving her home where she can love you long time.

60 years from birth canal to post-morbidity as template for 6,000 years from cradle of cities to posthabitancy heading for The Outer Rim as it unfolds on the backs of diamond-star engines arrayed for holo-quantumputing a pansexualized omniverse fit for nano sapiens WiFi’d to the nines.

Death In The Key of Life by Danny Baker

Grit your teeth world; Danny Baker is going in dry! ’Death In The Key Of Life’ is like a long sustained Coltrane saxophone solo. It caresses, it brutalizes, it honks and bleats (in)articulately, it pleads for meaning, it spits on the world. Often all on the same page.

Many have tried to give expression to the inexpressible – Joyce, Artaud, Beckett. Danny Baker is the first person who might just have pulled it off.

“surfing shudder at the very thought on wave of zeitgeist. cinematic detail jackknifes into animated over-the-top. voluminous desire to throw it all down a hunch- occasionally leaning hard on disputed. overactive imagination is an oxymoron. personally I think this book is the future of poetry. It’s never too late to treat yourself to some truth. You’ll find that & so much more in Danny Baker’s art. You have my word.”

INTO THE WOODS

By Michelle Augello-Page

Escape into nine dark and erotic stories which explore sex and transformation written in dreams across the body, etched in the language of skin. Each story is interwoven with magic, music and art, as lost and damaged characters navigate their broken worlds, searching for wholeness and connection.

Many of the stories are sexually explicit, engaging the reader in aspects of kink, fetish, and BDSM. Some stories represent sexual trauma, abuse, negligence and cruelty. Other stories seek to express the esoteric and transcendent power of sex.

Into The Woods is a unique and beautifully crafted collection of stories rooted in the female, immersed in the physical and the spiritual, and steeped in the rich archetypal landscape of fairy tales and mythology.

‘The Broken Diary’ by Ian Miller and ‘She’ by Christine Murray

THE BROKEN DIARY

y Ian Mill Ian Miller is best known for his surreal and grotesque illustrations for people like Tolkien, Lovecraft, Peake and others. He collaborated on the graphic novels ‘The Luck In The Head’ with M John Harrison, and ‘The City’ with James Herbert. His work has been collected, most notably in the book ‘Green Dog Trumpet’. With ‘The Broken Diary’, Miller takes us on a labyrinthine journey through ‘almost familiar’ places, meeting with disturbing often hilarious characters – all intercut with entries from the author’s diary, in such a way that the everyday melts into the phantastic.

SHE

By Christine Murray “I do not expect anyone will believe me, but I know that my dreaming life is as real as my waking life. Indeed, I have learnt not to call these sleeping narratives anything other than a different part of my reality. When I first encountered the entity that appears on the towpath I was afraid for She seemed hardly human to me. I had gone little by little into this dreaming place over the course of twenty years, and I had explored it almost wholly. I do not know what my encounter with this lady means, I intend to find out.” With ‘She’ Christine Murray explores the spaces between waking and dreaming, that we all inhabit yet are so rarely revealed to us in this day and age. Part shaman part Sybil,she takes us on a Jungian odyssey to meet the archetype that stands at the crossroads of birth and death, one whom we are all destined to encounter sooner or later.

Bone Orchard Poetry has officially re-opened to submissions. It will also be an outlet for Oneiros Books writers wishing to showcase their works through previews, reviews, and related works.

Submissions Guidelines

Please submit 3-6 poems or 1-3 short prose/ prose poetry/ flash fiction pieces for consideration. NO ATTACHMENTS, they will be deleted automatically. Publication is on a rolling basis. A bio is optional but please keep it short. All submissions to: boneorchardpoetry[at]gmail[dot]com

In Paris in the late Fifties the Beat Generation writer William Burroughs and his sidekick Brion Gysin developed the cut-up method. It involved taking a piece of finished text and cutting it into pieces – then rearranging those pieces to create a new text or work of art. Burroughs wrote that: “When you cut into the present the future leaks out.” The cut-up had a profound effect on music, writing, painting, and film. Devotees of the cut-up include David Bowie, Radiohead, and Kathy Acker. In addition to bringing together new work by new people, CUT UP! also salutes some better known 20th Century voices who kept the spirit of Burroughs and Gysin alive.

sea is a womb

black the inky waves lap to

black the inky waves lap to
and black they suck the shale
and if birds swoop
they are the mere shadows of birds
there are hands there to disembark you
to hold you over the rocky black
those hands that will arc you onto the comfort of stone
this is the sea/
this inky black
it does not smell of sea
the gap between the boat and the shore is awesome
the wood laps the water dragging it out /
and
bobbing it back again
the chasm at the heel
and one step forward
to land to stone comfort.

Contents Page

(i) A letter found in the box that contained this narrative, being addressed to the cousin of former patient, Miss Constance Byrne.

(ii) A note attached to the file of Miss Constance Byrne (now deceased).

Part I

Standing Stones
Grove
Lake
Serpentine The Alleyway
A Ruined Church at the Precipice
Burnt Hill
Descent

Part II

The Island
She

Cousin – ,

The narrative that follows here is a faithful rendering of my wanderings from the time of my retirement to the dawn. It is always the same. I do not expect anyone will believe me, but I know that my dreaming life is as real as my waking life.

Indeed, I have learnt not to call these sleeping narratives anything other than a different part of my reality.When I first encountered the entity that appears on the towpath I was afraid for She seemed hardly human to me. I had gone little by little into this dreaming place over the course of twenty years, and I had explored it wholly in her company. I do not know what my encounter with this lady means, I intend to find out.

In my exploratory times there I have never yet met another person. Although there were signs of life (or of creaturely habitation).This landscape seemed to me to be ruined by war and by heat. What else could make marble of glass shards?

It is bleak there. At every dawn there occurs a throb of colour and I know that somehow I am back here in this world. I do not believe that my nightly explorations are a dream, for I have found tears upon my slippers, and a rend in the lace of my dress.She wants to show me something. She has indicated for me a bridge. I intend to cross over it, and thereby to continue to explore the geography of its unknown terrain.

I travel now alone. I am unencumbered by family, nor by tradition. I leave to you this letter and some small tokens of my esteem. Know that I am safe, and although I undertake this journey with trepidation, I remain always your,